


We're Just Kids

by ARSONjST



Series: Dream SMP Short Stories [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom
Genre: Angst, mentions of injury, shouting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 20:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28962672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ARSONjST/pseuds/ARSONjST
Summary: After they teleport to the secret room, Ranboo finally snaps at everyone for the lives that have been endangered far too often.
Series: Dream SMP Short Stories [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068716
Comments: 10
Kudos: 175





	We're Just Kids

**Author's Note:**

> This is fairly short, but it was fun to write angry Ranboo! I'd like to thank the anon on my Tumblr who recommended this!
> 
> !!! Also, warning for mentions of blood and shouting !!!

He’d officially felt the last bit of his self restrain snap, but he’d only realized it had when his vision inverted. He could feel his jaw pop and the skin on the sides of his mouth stretch, not rip, but pull as he screeched. Or well, vwooped, technically. But the noise that left his mouth was certainly not human, and certainly not normal for the usually gentle worded teenager.

“Ranboo?” Someone’s, maybe Niki’s, voice shook as the tall boy’s jaw clicked shut. His face screwed up in anger and he huffed, trying to keep himself calm. He needed to calm down, but with all the eyes now on him as Dream was held back by Sapnap’s sword, he felt uncomfortable and angry.

 _You don’t have to shout,_ he thinks to himself _, but I really want to. But it wouldn’t be smart, you know this! You know better._

Tubbo coughs from beneath his feet, bringing a hand up to his wound. A slash Dream had managed to get decently deep before the mass of people could close off Dream’s path to the slightly older boy. Tommy held Tommy protectively, almost wrapped around his friend, as he whispered apologies and prayers. They were so broken, so _young_ , sixteen and seventeen.

_No. Actually, let them have it._

He can feel the anger pool in his chest as his hands curl into fists and his breathing picks up, the static noises in his head start to transfer the area around him and he allows the benefit of being around eight-foot finally play as he extends his back to stand upright and fully straight. He’s pissed, deservingly, but it doesn't shock him when Sam pulls his sword out and brandishes it. A warning, he assumes, not that it’s needed. Ranboo knows he won't attack anyone, despite how badly he wants to.

“Do you all realize how old we are! We’re all sixteen or seventeen, we’re _kids_! Some of you are only eighteen, nineteen, or twenty! You’re still so young but yeah, you’re _adults_! We’re _not_! _We’re children! Literal children!_ None of you stepped in until it was dire, or until these two were basically dead, or until it benefitted you! I know some of you knew about this battle days before it took place, some of you probably thought it would happen weeks in advance, but you haven’t stepped in once to help them fight! We watched as nations blew up under their feet, they traded their valued possessions for some sort of fake freedom, they’ve watched those they looked up to crumble and fall to grief and fall like Icarus! We watched as they lost the nation they just rebuilt, only to feverishly pick it together again. They were forced apart by adults who didn’t care for their mentalities, but rather a nation over its people! And when they finally get everything back, they have less than a day to prepare before their whole lives are blown out from under their feet for the third time! We’ve just watched as these kids have lost it all over and over and over and over again!”

He pauses, taking in the shocked faces of those in front of him. But some faces fall in the realization that they’d basically just watched two children throw themselves into danger over and over without as much as giving a helping hand. That everyone, at the end of the day in the eyes of these children, had been selfish.

“This battle they had to do on their own, I know it could’ve gone worse if we went alongside them. But we all wished them farewells like it was some sort of sadistic funeral march! They took supplies or traded supplies from a lot of us, but we never gave them anything because we thought of them as kids fighting a god, we gave them stuff because it was monetary value or it also benefited us. Punz, I get you’re some mercenary or whatever, I don’t care about your deal with the money but how come you told us about this fight yesterday. How come it took us so long before we all decided that, no, this wasn’t right!”

Tommy watches Ranboo from behind, clutching a 1HP Tubbo to his chest. The half-Enderman turns, eyes almost pulsing purple, before he turns to Dream. “And how come you, the server’s owner, the person who has rules for us thought this was remotely okay?! You’re hunting down, manipulating, and killing children! I know what you did to Tommy during his exile, it’s not my place to explain to anyone else what happened, but I know you Dream. I know the true nightmare you are underneath that white mask and well-crafted lies. You’re a fucking monster.”

The room is silent as Ranboo slowly seemingly retracts his height, the static stops, and the random vwoops decrease, he looks around before he whispers,

“We’re kids. We don’t want to die.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you like this, don't hesitate to comment! I love reading any sort of feedback, as long as it's constructive! Also, if you want to see more of my writing, you can follow my Tumblr, or take a look around my ao3!


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